


Moiety

by Hellmice



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellmice/pseuds/Hellmice
Summary: (1) (noun) one of two (approximately) equal parts;Draco and Hermione meet again in university.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Theodore Nott, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger / Draco Malfoy, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there,  
> This is my first posting on this website. Please be kind.   
> x Michelle

1.

He liked to watch her. Her eyebrows specifically. It was an odd thing.  
He noticed it first when he was assigned a seat opposite her in the first course they had together. Of course she recognized him immediately, frowning for a few seconds before sporting the most successful pokerface he had ever laid eyes on.

They didn’t speak much during that first encounter. Draco felt rather awkward, as the last time he had seen her was during his trial, where she had spoken on his behalf. He was charged with a year in Azkaban and two years probation, to be served from his home. Thank Merlin he was allowed to buy a new house, as he didn’t particularly feel at home at the Manor after Voldemort had written murder all over it.

He dared to glance at her a few times during that first hour, though. That’s when he saw it first. Every time she wrote something down, with every thought that crossed her probably overflowing mind, her eyebrows moved. Just slightly so. A small tick. He had the distinct feeling that she was ignoring him, or at least acting like it.

This annoyed him to no end. Despite his annoyance at the situation and the fact that they couldn’t speak aloud during the lecture, he tried to stay calm and practice his breathing exercises without drawing attention to himself. He rehearsed the speech he had carefully prepared during his year probation, to fall back on in the probable case he would run into one of his former classmates.

The lecture seemed to last forever. Forty grey hairs, a nightmare and two fingernails later, they were finally dismissed. Draco saw her collecting her pens and several coloured markers and grinned to himself while packing his notes. Some things never changed. He tried to lose the anxiety he felt as he walked the few meters up to her desk.

‘I didn’t expect you here,’ she mumbled as she grabbed her books without really looking at him. ‘Never imagined you would want to go to University.’

She was careful not to say anything suspicious, as they were of course in the middle of a Muggle lecture room. When he didn’t immediately reply, she looked up and as their eyes met, for one second he was back in his old home, with her looking up at him. A desperate expression. Tears. Her body writhing on the floor, bleeding.

‘I’m sorry,’ he stumbled. ‘I’m so sorry.’

And he ran.

The ten minute speech he had so carefully prepared, gone. He couldn’t do this, not here – and certainly not now. As he ran from the room, trying not to draw attention to himself, despite having a panic attack in plain sight, he heard her calling his name. And as the door closed behind him, the voices from his class suddenly muted, he realized it was the first time he heard her say his first name.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

The second time he saw her was not much later. No doubt after humiliating himself, he would now run into her on every corner of the campus. If she lived on campus, that is. She was roaming the row next to his in the library when he saw her again. The sweater she was wearing was much too warm for the season, but he remembered her wearing similar things in Hogwarts when it wasn’t even that cold out. Probably she just liked to cuddle up in a big sweater with a book, he imagined.

He approached her, feeling a little more prepared to talk to her this time.

‘Hi,’ he said - silently, as they were of course still inside a library.

She turned her head, lowering the book she was holding in front of her face to look at him.

‘Hi,’ she replied.

‘Look, I want to apologize for my behaviour the other day. I was a bit overwhelmed to see you in this setting. How – how’s it going?’ He wanted to slap himself. How’s it going? How about you act casual and not as if you are old friends. Even though they were theoretically acquaintances and did speak to each other before. But still.

‘I’m good,’ she replied, ‘have been studying Chemistry and Biology for a year now. I have first started out in English Lit but I got bored after barely a semester so that wasn’t for me. I decided I want to be a healer, but combine the profession with Muggle knowledge on biology and chemistry and hopefully add to the existing research available to cure common Magical illness and the after effect of curses.’

Draco nodded.

‘That’s ambitious. I mean, I have enrolled in some courses in biology and psychology as well to prepare myself for healer training one day, but already I find there are a lot of differences between Muggle and Magic research. And some of the studies that I have read about… Muggles seem barbaric in their old research methods!’

He bit his own tongue. Not even had he apologized for his wrongdoings in and before the war, but he was already insulting Muggles (again).

To his surprise she giggled to his comment.

‘I suppose you're right, although I must say that in modern times, Muggle medicine is a lot less barbaric and more scientific. Healers have their spells and their potions, but Muggle doctors have their pills and physical treatments.’

She stopped talking to breathe.

‘So, psychology? I hadn’t expected that from you?’

Her question rang in the air, as he tried to decipher whether this was an insult or just a regular comment.

‘Last I heard you were training to become a professional Quidditch player.’

Draco smiled. That had been ambitious. In the three years since the war, both in Azkaban and on probation, he had not been on a broom as he was not allowed to go outside. Trying again after three years had been tough, his balance was off and he had not been as fit as when he was 18. After about four months he had called it quits. Still a coward.

‘Ah, so you are talking about me?’

He winked. Hermione smiled and put the book back on the shelf.  
  
‘Let’s get a coffee – I’ll share the rumours!’  
  
-  
  
Two hours later they had talked about everything but their past. The apology still burning on the tip of his tongue, Draco sighed.

‘Hermione,’ he started.

She looked up from her third hot chocolate (apparently the woman didn’t drink coffee, only sugary concoctions) and blinked.

‘I just wanted to say – ’

A whirlwind of hair, almost as big as Hermione’s, moved through his peripheral and jumped his conversation partner.

‘Mione!’ it yelled.

Draco picked up the napkin that had blown off the table and closed his open mouth, apology forgotten.

‘Ginny! What are you doing here? I thought you were back in Glasgow with Blaise?’

Draco blinked. The two girls began talking in high speed about how it was possible they were both here, what Blaise was doing, how Hermione’s “boy toy” was doing, at which she burst out laughing. Draco frowned.

She yelled: ‘If you leave me alone again with one of your roommates and lock the door, I’m cutting off your hair in your sleep.’

Ginny started giggling.

‘Worth it,’ she laughed.

It was at that moment that Ginny noticed Draco, and her eyed widened.

‘My eyes are deceiving me, if it isn’t Malfoy! What are you doing here, at Oxford, in the middle of term? Are you visiting?’ she rambled.

Draco looked at Hermione, who bit her lip. Anxiety took over: was she ashamed to be seen with him? She had invited him over for coffee, right?

He opened his mouth to give a sane-person answer, but said instead: ‘You Zabini’s girl now?’


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Ginny frowned, turned around and sat down in the remaining free chair.

‘I’m no-ones nothing, Malfoy’, a pause, ‘but if you are wondering who he is thinking about every time he is not listening during one of your phone calls… Yes, that would be me.’

She smiled. Draco tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. It was not that he did not like Ginny, he just did not know whether Ginny liked him. Blaise and he went way back, they had known each other since childhood. Whereas he was from a traditional family with etiquette and manners – Blaise’s upbringing was completely different.

Blaise’s parents were Italian, which meant their mansion was swarmed with family 24/7. His grandmother was always cooking and the smells still haunted Draco to this day. As was standard with pure-blooded families, when there was a gathering at one or the other’s mansion – the children would always be put together with one or two house elves. It was only when they were about 7 years old that Draco started going on little adventures with the Zabini heir.

They would sneak away from the rest and look for trouble in the gardens or within the Mansion. More often than not they would be found by one of the house elves before their parents had noticed. One time this was not the case – while chasing around the garden gnomes in lady Greengrass’s garden, they ran into Lucius Malfoy himself, and were grounded for two months. During this period they had established a secret language that they used in letters, which they had still used in Hogwarts when a message had to remain secret. It was because of these things, the small things from their childhood, that despite Draco’s dark Death Eater period, they still remained friends to this day.

‘I like you,’ he smiled to Ginny, deciding to wing it and be as direct as she was, ‘you’re honest.’

Ginny’s smile widened and the anxiety left Draco’s chest. They sat together for another 20 minutes, talking about nothing serious, until Hermione brought up the student board.

‘Are you enrolled as well, Draco?’

He shook his head, he didn’t have any time to look into these kinds of things.

‘You should come along when we have our next pub meet-up, it’s fun!’

Ginny poked her, winking. She looked at her watch.

‘Oh, we need to leave. Draco, let me give you my number, ok?’

He blinked, silently.

‘So we can meet up again sometime, maybe to study together?’ She tried.

He nodded. ‘Sure.’

-

He saw her again the next week, at another lecture. Her number was in his phone, unused. He had looked at her profile picture in the last week for longer than he liked to admit. He couldn’t find it in him to text her. Not only did he not know what to say, how to start the conversation, but also he felt ashamed. They had talked for hours and he had yet to apologize for his horrible behaviour the first six years they went to school together.

After the war, when he had to serve a year in Azkaban, he had tried to write letters, but never had found the guts to send them. It seemed like nothing changed in that department. He looked up from his book, frowning as he saw that she was laughing, talking with one of the guys sitting in front of her in the lecture room. Sighing, he picked up his phone and opened a first message to her.

‘Hi,’ he typed, indecisive of how to continue.

Wanting to delete the message, he accidentally pressed enter and it was sent. Almost dropping his phone, he tried to undo it and found he could not take it back. On top of this, he found himself horribly blushing about the whole ordeal.

Across the room, Hermione opened her bag and took out her phone. He watched as she smiled softly, looked at him over her shoulder, and replied to his message.

‘Hello Draco’

Something fluttered in his stomach and his hands were shaking. He had never felt so uncomfortable in his life – no, that was probably a lie: There were at least ten occurrences during the war where he was definitely more uncomfortable than he was right now. Taking a deep breath, he started a new message:

‘I was just wondering, would you like to study together tonight?’

He pressed send. It took her a few seconds to answer, and he grew more nervous.

‘Sorry, I can’t.’

She didn’t look over her shoulder this time. He was starting to feel nauseous, sure she was going to turn him down, saying she didn’t want to hang out with him, that he had misunderstood her first try at a friendship between them.

‘We have an informal meet-up with the student association in the campus pub, you should come!’

Another flutter in his stomach. He was almost feeling sick with nerves, not sure how she meant the invitation. Did she want to be friends, or did she only do her job as a part of the student board in making him feel welcome?

‘It starts at 8.’


	4. Chapter 4

4.

At 7:50, Draco was rummaging through his clothes, unsure of what to wear. She had called the meeting _informal_ , so probably she shouldn’t wear a vest. No definitely not a vest. One of those muggle blouses then? Merlin forbid he had to wear one of those _t-shirts_. He settled for a blouse, a light grey one that held a satin-y shine. Draco felt stupid about caring about his clothes, but it felt like a life line. In the muggle world he felt like he couldn’t control what was happening, not being able to use his magic out in the open. He constantly felt on edge when he was in public places, always afraid that he looked weird and people would notice that he was different.

Over the last few months he had found a new way to blend in. Moving onto campus at the beginning of term, he had signed up for the campus gym. Not only was it a way of getting to know new people - like his neighbour Ben that he had ran into a couple of times before that but had never spoken to before they met in the gym – but also to copy the way they looked. He had started to wear his hair differently. Copying the popular hairstyle, he now had to use a sort of wax and comb it around at the top a bit. Of course, he used the gift of magic to make sure whatever weather he was in, his hair stayed in that position. But his new muggle friends didn’t need to know that, so he made sure his coupe looked casual, even though it took him about three times as long as before.

One other thing he had copied from the guys at the gym was his order at pubs. He was used to drinking Firewhiskey and, on occasion, a pint. After one night hanging at the gym with his new found buddies, he found out that they all drank some concoction called gin-tonic. He tried it, he liked it, so he kept it. Buttoning up the long sleeves of his blouse, he sighed when he saw the end of his dark mark. He was still planning on covering it up with a muggle tattoo, or at least make it less visible by tattooing the rest of his arm. He had seen some examples of that in the gym as well.

He rented a studio apartment near the library at a generous price, but he was nothing if not still wealthy. The war had substantially decreased his family fortune, but they still had more than most. His mother had decided to, in the absence of his father, sell the Manor to some wealthy muggles. She had self-handedly removed all traces of magic from the property. It was quite the talk in the community. Not common for Pureblooded families to sell their age-old property, it gave a clear signal that Narcissa Black, as she called herself now, did not particularly care for that side of the family anymore.

Lucius Malfoy had been sent to Azkaban. He had, despite all his efforts, been convicted of all the war crimes he had committed, and was on the list to receive the Kiss in the near future. Draco could not find it in himself to care much about his father’s faith, blaming him for ruining his childhood and traumatizing not only him, but also his mother. He still had the nightmares to show for it. He looked at his watch. 8:15. Would it be socially acceptable to go to the pub yet? Or would there only be a handful of people there that were actually part of the student board themselves, like Hermione?

Fuck it. Grabbing his coat and his keys, he walked out of his apartment after checking on his hair for a last time. The walk there was freezing – it had begun to snow in the second week after Christmas. Tiny flakes fell from the sky, giving the campus a magical Christmassy vibe, halfway through January. What also helped was that they still had not cleaned up the Christmas decorations around the library.

He liked studying. It felt like he was finally doing something useful with his time that he enjoyed. For the last two years, during his house arrest, he had read books and finished his exams, but he never felt like he was moving forward from the war. Now, with new friends and challenges ahead, felt refreshingly good. His phone buzzed.

‘Hey, are you coming?’

Hermione had sent him a text. He smiled. Not even half an hour after starting time, she was already wondering about his arrival. Or was he supposed to be there at 8, and was he now unacceptably late to this gathering? No. She had definitely said _informal meet-up, starts at 8_. He was sure it was perfectly fine for him to arrive at 8:20. He replied:

‘On my way.’

Two minutes later, he opened the door to the pub. Inside, it was swarming with people he did not know. It also was very hot. Immediately regretting his choice of outfit, he took of his coat and scarf and hung them on the coatrack. Only a few metres away, Hermione was standing with her back to him, chatting with a girl he vaguely remembered from their joined lecture. Working up the courage, he decided to jump in straight away. If he hung back now, he would probably lose the courage.

‘Hey,’ he started, faintly touching Hermione’s upper arm as he moved to stand beside her.

‘Hi!’ she enthusiastically answered. ‘This is Emma, she is also in our class. Emma, this is Draco.’

The girl, Emma, politely shook his hand, smiling. She had very light blue eye and looked a bit like a witch, reminding him of Luna Lovegood. Her voice was hoarse, like she had recently had a cold.

‘Nice to meet you, Draco. How do you like Oxford so far? Hermione just told me you were new.’

He subtly eyed Hermione, noticing her tight green dress and in particularly, her tits. Temporarily without any intelligent brainwaves, he just looked down and smiled.

‘Ah, so you were talking about me again, Hermione?’

To his utter satisfaction, he caught her blushing at his question.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

His smile widening, he only turned away from both girls for a minute to order a drink. Feeling very conscious of her presence right next to him, the heat almost radiating from her body, he swallowed.

‘Actually,’ Emma cut in once he turned back around towards them, drink in hand, ‘I asked Hermione about you.’

Emma smiled at him seductively, swirling a straw around in the drink she was holding. Draco raised an eyebrow in question, looking from her to Hermione, who was waving at someone who just came in. Emma continued:

‘I spotted the both of you last week in the coffee corner of the library. And I had never seen you before on campus. Hermione told me you were old friends, from high school.’

Looking pointedly at Hermione again, he cleared his throat. _Old friends._

‘Yeah,’ he stupidly answered – not really knowing how to reply to that.

Some guy joined them, quickly hugging both Emma and Hermione before turning to him. He introduced himself as Matt, before being chastised by both girls for being late. Presumably he was a member of the board – and thus should have been here at eight. Matt began making excuses and ordered all of them a drink as an apology.

Now with a gin-tonic in each hand, Draco felt a bit stupid. Not used to the quick drinking that some college students did, part of him just wanted to get rid of one of drinks. This would be a great moment for someone to run into him and to drop one of his drinks. Nothing of the sort happened, of course.

‘So, Draco, where are you from?’

Emma was clearly interested in him, that was for sure. He was not daft, nor was she very subtle. Grabbing onto his wrist, she pulled him towards her and did not let go of his arm. It felt a bit awkward, so she put his second drink on the bar next to her, and held on to the railing for support while he spoke to her.

‘Wiltshire.’

Her big blue eyes widened comically.

‘Wow, interesting!’

It wasn’t really, but she continued on about how his childhood had been, growing up on the countryside. Whether he grew up on a farm. If they had any animals. If he had brothers and sisters. Did he practice any sports growing up? Was their high school also in Wiltshire. Honestly it felt like an interview for the Prophet.

Only in this case, she also supplied him with all the answers to her life in reply. After a while, they started discussing college, their majors and recent research done on the subject. All the while, Hermione was standing behind Emma, talking to Matt and other people that joined their conversation. Draco felt trapped in his own conversation with Emma, wishing to speak with Hermione to apologize, to tell her he wanted them to be friends. Not old friends, _new friends._

-

Much later, after a toilet break, he came back to the bar finding Hermione had left. Just as well. This night had already totally missed its purpose. Emma, however, was still there.

‘Hey,’ she started. ‘Do you want to have another drink? I’m thinking about leaving…’

He wasn’t sure if she meant the next drink at her place, or something of the sort, but refused anyway.

‘No, I think I’ll be going home, early class tomorrow.’

His first class was at 11, but she didn’t need to know that. He wanted to go home and kick himself in the face for missing another opportunity to apologize to Hermione, as he had promised himself to do before coming.

‘Ok…’ Emma answered, lingering beside him as he put on his coat.

‘Would you like to grab a coffee sometime, Draco?’

By now he was pretty sure this would be a date, but he accepted anyway, wanting Hermione’s friends to like him. Walking out of the pub, he grabbed his phone to look at any missed messages as –

‘Hey! Draco!’

At the side of the pub, there was Hermione, smiling, drink in hand. Matt, standing next to her, was looking decidedly less sober and holding onto Hermione’s upper arms while trying to stand up straight.

‘Hey, I thought you had already left.’

Hermione smiled again apologetically and moved one of Matt’s hands to Draco’s arm.

‘Hold on to him for me for a sec, please? I’m just running inside to grab my purse, then I’ll take him to his room.’

Before he could answer, Hermione had run back inside. Matt snorted.

‘She’s so hot,’ Matt supplied, learning more onto Draco.

‘Yup,’ Draco answered, not thinking before speaking.

Both men were silent. It took Hermione only a minute, probably including brushing off other people not wanting her to leave, to get back outside of the pub. Putting on her mittens, she walked up to them and spun her arm around Matt’s.

‘Let’s go.’

Taking the silent invitation to join them, Draco kept a casual distance from her, putting his hands in his pockets. They walked for a couple of minutes, Hermione and Matt discussing some activity of the student board in March, more for the sake of talking than intelligent conversation. Matt kept talking in circles, repeating that he would finish his tasks in time, Hermione kept giggling, saying that would be the first time that would ever happen.


End file.
